While Love Stirs (36 page)

Joel reached for the blanket, then stilled her hands with his own. “I’m sorry.”

“Please, Joel, not now.”

“I said things I’m ashamed of. I would never want you to give up something you love. I was angry and I didn’t mean it.” He hung his head and drew in a deep breath. “And I was prideful. I didn’t tell you something I should have.” Joel released her hands and reached for the cot’s heavy burlap. He began to insert the first long, wood slat along the side. “I was engaged to a woman named Prudence.”

A tiny gasp escaped Charlotte’s lips.

He jammed the second slat in and leaned against it. “I know I should have told you.”

“What happened?”

“I discovered her kissing a friend of mine.”

“So when you saw Lewis and me in the garden—”

“It felt like it was happening all over again.” He set the cot down and slipped the crisscross support pieces in place. “I should have given you the chance to explain.”

“And I should have told you about Lewis earlier.” She sat down in a chair and clutched the blanket to her chest. “He’d been asking to see me, and every time he said something, I put off giving him a firm answer—until earlier today when I told him about you.”

“Then like a heel I came down and accused you.” Joel sat down on the cot he’d constructed. “Can we simply forgive each other and get on with planning the ball? We can get back to normal, and soon we’ll have all the money you need to get your new food ideas started at the hospital.”

“That can’t happen now, Joel.”

“You mean you don’t want to work with me on the ball?”

“No, I mean we’re going to have to change the cause.” She set the blanket in the chair, walked over to the pool table, and leaned against it. “With the explosion at the orphanage, the children’s needs are more immediate. It won’t be hard to get word out that the charity ball has a new cause—a new home for the orphans. We’ll probably raise even more money.”

“Charlotte, are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more certain.” Absentmindedly, she rolled the white ball on the table toward a striped green one. It sank in the corner pocket, missing the target altogether. Scratched. Like her plans.

“I hate this. You’ve worked so hard. What about your dreams for the hospital?”

She forced a smile and lifted one shoulder. “I can share some of the ideas with you that don’t require more money. In fact, some of them might actually help you cut costs.”

“Save us money? Why didn’t you share that with me when we first met?”

“You didn’t really give me a chance.”

He stood and joined her at the table. “Will you give
us
another chance?”

When he reached for her, she stepped back. “Joel, I can’t.”

“I thought we agreed to forgive and forget.”

“I can forgive you.” She met his gaze, staring into his green eyes. Her words came out as a whisper. “But I can’t forget. I don’t dare.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I promised myself I’d never be courted by anyone who wanted to control me.”

“Is this about me telling you to give up your position?” His voice rose. “For heaven’s sake, Charlotte, I said I was sorry. I didn’t mean that. I don’t want to control you. I want to love you.”

Love? The air squeezed from her lungs. This was the second time he’d uttered that word, but she couldn’t let it sway her—not now when she knew what she had to do.

“I want to give my heart to you, but I can’t. We’re like oil and vinegar. We’ll never blend. If it isn’t one thing, it’s another. You have goals and so do I, but they don’t mix. That seems to make an exciting but truly combustible pair, and today of all days should be a clear indication of what can happen when sparks fly.”

“You know what I think the problem is?” The muscle in his jaw twitched, making the mole on his cheek bob.

“What?”

“You’d rather settle for what’s easy than fight for something better.” Frustration filled his voice. “You haven’t ever given anything your whole heart.”

“And you’d like everything to be in a nice, predictable order, even when it comes to your heart. Well, I’ve got news for you, Joel Brooks. Love is messy.”

“You’re right, Charlotte. We’ll never really mix.” His hand sliced through the air. “We’ll finish planning the ball.”

“And then?”

“We’ll say goodbye for good—like you want.”

42

Mr. Jurgenson needed to do something with those bushy eyebrows. Tessa bit back a chuckle as she exchanged a cheery “good morning” with her employer and Miss Walker.

After the tumultuous weekend at the house and a festive trip to Saint Paul’s Independence Day parade yesterday, coming to work this Tuesday morning was almost a relief. Between twelve grieving children in the house and a lovesick Charlotte, Tessa needed to get away. Even Sunday’s church service and the parade had done little to lighten the heaviness that had descended over Aunt Sam’s home.

Instead of a polite response to her greeting, Mr. Jurgenson crossed his arms over his chest. “We seem to have a problem, young lady.”

“If this is about the letter, I’m sorry it took so long for me to finish.” She dutifully averted her eyes and tried to look chastened.

“If only it were that simple.” His sharp tone made her bristle. “No, it’s about some missing receipts.”

Her gaze darted to Miss Walker. “Receipts?”

“A few weeks ago, I began to wonder why our receipts for the weekend didn’t seem to match the numbers in attendance, so this week I counted the money before I left the cash box with Miss Walker. She tells me she had you tally and enter the figures. Is that correct?”

“Yes, she told me you wanted me to enter them, but—”

He silenced her with a glare. “The figure you entered is significantly less than what I knew to be in the box.” Flipping open the ledger he had tucked under his arm, he pointed to the figure Miss Walker had changed.

“That’s not what I entered, Mr. Jurgenson. That’s not even my handwriting.”

“The only people who had access to this ledger were Miss Walker and yourself. Do you expect me to believe Miss Walker would steal from the theater? That’s utterly ridiculous.”

“But she has been, long before I came. She admitted it to me.” Tessa turned to Miss Walker. “Tell him. You know it’s the truth.”

Miss Walker met Mr. Jurgenson’s momentary scrutiny with a look of wide-eyed innocence. She followed it with a well-timed eye roll in Tessa’s direction.

Apparently Tessa wasn’t the only one who could act.

“Miss Gregory, you expect me to believe that our proper Miss Walker would stoop to theft? How dare you accuse such a fine lady.”

“But—”

“Enough. I intend to visit with your aunt about this directly.”

Aunt Sam? Why did he need to speak with her? Oh dear. If she was told, Hannah and Charlotte would soon know too.

“Aunt Sam is still recovering. Are you sure it’s necessary to bother her?”

“I think she needs to know she has a thief living in her home. Gather your things, Miss Gregory. You are no longer welcome in the theater.”

“I did not steal that money, Mr. Jurgenson.” Her heart pounded so hard she feared she might faint.

She took a calming breath. It was going to be all right. Although she hated being blamed for something she didn’t do, her sisters would believe her, and not coming to this office was perfectly fine with her as long as she still had the play.

Mr. Jurgenson snapped the ledger shut. “One more thing. Miss Walker told me about your role in the play. I’ve already spoken
to the play’s director about your dismissal. He’s securing your replacement as we speak.”

Her part in the play? Tears flooded her eyes and an ache spread across her chest. This wasn’t fair. She’d earned that role.

She glanced at Miss Walker, who merely quirked her lip with a hint of smug satisfaction. She clenched her fists. Miss Walker would not see her cry.

If only she’d spoken to Mr. Jurgenson right away. Would he have believed her then? Now she was trapped. Her sisters would believe her, but what about Aunt Sam? Would she believe the “niece” she’d only known a short time, or her old family friend?

One glance in the mirror told Joel he didn’t look any better than he felt. Three agitated nights and another early-morning baby delivery had left him exhausted. He’d slept in this morning with Dr. Ancker’s blessing, but he was due for rounds at eight.

He washed his face, squeezed a bit of shaving cream onto his fingers, and spread it over his coarse beard growth. Adding a little water, he rubbed it until he had a foamy lather and then ran his safety razor down his cheek.

He could still feel Charlotte’s hand against his cheek from when they’d last kissed. Everywhere he went, she haunted him—in his office, in his Model T, in his dreams. He couldn’t even look at an apple without thinking of her. Like a shell pressed into the damp sand, she’d made an imprint. But what would he need to do in order for a sea of forgetfulness to come wash the memories away?

But is that what he truly wanted? To say goodbye to her forever?

At church Sunday, the minister had talked about self-sacrifice, and again Charlotte had taken her place at the forefront of his thoughts. She’d been the perfect example of self-sacrifice, giving up her dream for the hospital because the orphans needed the funds right away.

“What have you sacrificed for the ones you love?” the minister
had asked. “What are you willing to give up to secure their happiness?”

Since Sunday, Joel’s prayers had become more fervent than ever. For years, his favorite verse had been Psalm 37:4, “Delight thyself also in the L
ORD
: and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart,” but for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure what the desire of his heart truly was. Sure, he wanted the assistant superintendent’s position at the hospital, but would it fill the gaping hole in his heart?

No, only one person would do that, and she didn’t believe they could have a future together.

He tapped the razor on the side of the sink and set it aside before rinsing his face and patting it dry. Back in his bedroom, he slipped his shirt on and began to do up the buttons. His fingers fumbled. What was wrong with him?

Charlotte.

She’d told him love was messy. Did he like things to line up in neat rows so much that he expected it in his relationships? He’d told Mattie that when things started to spin in his life, he reached for control. She’d said he clung to control like a lifeline, but she reminded him the Lord should be his lifeline. When had he stopped turning to the Lord for his answers?

The realization kicked him hard. He sank down on the edge of the bed and lowered his head to his hands.
Lord, I’ve been trying to do
it on my own again, haven’t I? I can’
t believe the mess I’ve made of things, but
I’m clinging to you now—my real lifeline. Show
me what I should do about Charlotte. I refuse to
control her. I can’t push her, and I won’
t demand anything of her. But I can’t stop
loving her either.

He’d never felt more powerless or less in control.

Or more at peace.

I’m putting
her in your hands, Lord. Please show me how to
love her, even if she won’t let me come
near.

With a basket of paper butterflies on her arm, Charlotte walked toward Hannah’s house with Tessa in tow. Despite Aunt Sam’s adamant refusal to believe Mr. Jurgenson’s accusations, Tessa had lost her usual zeal.

“Tessa, why didn’t you tell anyone about Miss Walker?”

“I did tell someone.”

“Lincoln? Then we should telephone him.”

“No, I told Joel.”

Charlotte stopped on the sidewalk. “Are you certain? He didn’t say anything to me.”

“I swore him to secrecy. He tried to get me to tell you.”

Ooooh, that man. Accusing her of keeping secrets when he hadn’t said a word about her sister being in trouble. He probably thought he could handle it all himself.

She took a deep breath and tempered her thoughts. That wasn’t fair. With Tessa’s imagination, he probably thought she was making most of it up. “Why didn’t you have us call Joel yesterday when all this happened?”

She shrugged. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. Besides, he was picking up Molly, remember?”

Given all that had transpired between Joel and her, Charlotte was surprised when he’d telephoned the house on Monday and left a message that he would be picking up Molly as planned. He said he would take Molly to her sister’s home to convalesce, and Charlotte should give her a couple of days before visiting.

“I still can’t believe he made me quit the play.” Tessa heaved a sigh.

Shaken from her thoughts, Charlotte touched her sister’s arm. “I know you loved acting in the play. I’m sorry you lost your part.”

“I guess it’s time for me to return from Neverland. Everyone has to grow up some time.”

Charlotte wrapped her arm around Tessa’s shoulders. “Not you, Tessa. You’re going to be my little sister forever.”

She dropped her chin to her chest. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Charlotte chuckled as she climbed the steps to Hannah’s house. She knocked on the door and Mrs. Umdahl answered. “Mrs. Cole is in the parlor with the baby.”

“Thank you.” A few seconds later, Charlotte set the basket on a marble-topped table and glanced at Hannah, who had Ellie with her on the divan. Hannah bent over and smiled at the baby. Ellie cooed and blew spit bubbles in response.

“My turn.” Tessa knelt by the divan and took over playing with Ellie, so Hannah joined Charlotte at the table.

“How’s my favorite niece?” Charlotte asked.

“Magical.” She glanced back at her daughter. “You need more butterflies?”

“I’m afraid so. Can you make some when she naps?”

“Sure.” She studied her sister’s face. “How are you—honestly?”

Moisture formed in Charlotte’s eyes. “Do you think I’ll ever get over him?”

Tessa moaned. “Lottie, if love was a virus, you’d be on your deathbed.”

Charlotte scowled at her, but Hannah laughed. “Okay, wise one, what’s our sister’s cure?”

She hiked a shoulder. “You need to ask the doctor.”

“That’s not funny and you know it.” Charlotte sat down in a rose-colored parlor chair and traced a carved hand rest with her finger.

Ellie’s giggles turned to fussing, so Hannah swaddled her, lifted her to her shoulder, and swayed back and forth. “Are you sure you can’t make things work?”

Charlotte dabbed her eyes. “I truly don’t see how two people who are so different can have a good relationship.”